


Big Hands, Big Heart.

by biblio_witch



Series: The Devil's Backbone (Bellarke) [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cute, Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Romantic Fluff, You'll die of cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblio_witch/pseuds/biblio_witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Clarke catches Bellamy being kind, and comes to a shocking discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Hands, Big Heart.

_A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds._

_A good deed is never lost;_

_he who sows courtesy reaps friendship,_

_and he who plants kindness gathers love._

Clarke stumbled out of the dropship on dead legs. She'd been awake for hours, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten. Jasper was stable - for now - though she would have to figure out what was in that poultice pretty quickly if she were to save him. She stopped now, breathed in the cool night air, though  _that_ was a surprise; the last time she'd been out here it had been midday.  _  
_

She stopped on the ramp of the dropship, looked around to find the camp half deserted, and she gratefully sank to the cold, hard metal of the ramp. She dragged her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms, wanting,  _needing,_ just two moments of peace. 

"Hey, Princess!" she didn't even look up; didn't have to. The brash, clipped tone was a dead giveaway of his Royal Thugness approaching her. She felt rather than heard him approach, and held up one hand when she knew he'd paused in front of her. She glanced up at him through a veil of her ratty, tangled hair. 

"Could you just... Not?" she croaked, finding her voice rough and unused after hours of silence around Jasper. "Just, two minutes, Bellamy. Just let me rest for two minutes." 

There was only silence from him, and she'd thought he'd actually accepted her quiet, exhausted plea and left her in peace. But she was surprised when she heard the clatter of his boots climb the ramp, and glanced up in time to watch him take a seat next to her, long legs crossed and hands situated politely in his lap. He tilted his chin back to look at the sky, and after a moment she did the same. They sat like that, silent and stoic beside one another, for much longer than two minutes. Clarke wondered idly if he was watching the Ark pivot slowly in the sky, nothing more than a pinprick of light. She realised quickly that it wasn't her place to ask. 

"How's Jasper?" he broke the long silence, but kept his voice quiet and calm so as not to break the peaceful bubble they'd constructed around themselves. 

"He's stable. Monty is with him right now," she murmured back, letting her eyes slide closed and the cool breeze lift her matted her up from her damp neck. "We need water up there, I shouldn't actually have been away from him this long." Clarke scrambled to her feet then, wracked with guilt. Here she was wasting precious minutes on her own selfish needs, when those minutes might mean the difference between life and death for Jasper.

Bellamy stood too, slower than her though. "When was the last time you slept, Clarke?" 

She stopped in the act of walking away from him, turned back and tilted her head, frowning suddenly. "I... don't actually remember." Everything had been so hectic, so many people injured, so many threats, her head had been spinning from the first moment she'd set foot on the ground. 

The large man shook his head, then reached out to pat her shoulder in the first act of... Non-dislike towards her since they'd met. 

"Go back up to Jasper, I'll get the water." he held up a hand as she began to protest. "I'll find you a blanket and pillow too, so you can sleep next to him, alright?" 

She blinked, shocked, but nodded. She complied when he gave her a gentle shove back towards the dropship, and climbed up slowly, almost bent double with exhaustion. When she'd reached the top, Clarke turned back in time to watch Bellamy disappear into the line of trees in the direction of the river. 

Huh, weird. His Royal Thugness  _actually_ might possess a shred of decency. A very  _slim_ shred, Clarke maintained. 

****

"All I'm saying is that you need to give them half hour breaks to have a drink of water, and a rest every two hours, at _least._ I swear, you're the dumbest dumb person I know." 

"And you're the dumbest smart person, _I_ know, Princess. I'm telling you," he glared back "That the wall isn't going to be built if we keep stopping to baby them." 

"It's not babying," Clarke snapped, hands on round hips "It's looking after children, if you work them too hard they're going to turn against you, Bellamy, you want that?" 

"Oh please," he snorted, dark skin flushed red with anger "I have perfect control over everyone-" he cut off suddenly, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as something caught his eye over the curve of Clarke's shoulder. She turned too, just in time to see two small figures duck into the line of trees opposite them, which served as the camps' unofficial boundary line - a line Bellamy had forbade any one of their group to cross not too long ago. 

Clarke winced, opened her mouth to attempt to calm him, but he was already stomping off, face set in thunderclouds. She followed quickly, unable to allow two unsuspecting teenagers to face Bellamy's wrath without at least trying to soften the blow a little. It didn't take long to find them, stood in the butterfly fields, but Clarke stopped in surprise as she noticed that the two offenders were young girls. One of them was stood with her back to Clarke and Bellamy, staring up at the other girl, who was heaving herself up the thick limbs of the tree. 

"What the hell?" Bellamy growled, marching towards the pair. The girl on the ground spun around, eyes widening in panic, and Clarke felt her heart squeeze tight as she took in the big blue eyes and long, dark hair. She looked no older than thirteen, and Clarke wondered if she'd been friends with Charlotte. The other girl - a redhead with eyes like green glass- fell out of the tree with a thud and a yelp, but hurried to scramble up to take up position in front of the other girl, who was now weeping softly. 

"Bellamy," Clarke sighed, grabbing his wrist "Come on, they're just kids-" 

"Kids that're gonna get themselves killed if they don't follow the rules." he snapped back, jerking his hand out of her grip. He turned back to the girls, hands on hips, scowl in place, eyes fierce. "You two think you're above the rules, huh? Got an excuse? Or are you just hoping the grounders are nice to little girls? _Well?_ " 

The redhead puffed herself out as big as she could, even so, she still probably only came to Bellamy's ribs, Clarke's chest, at a push. She was tiny, underfed, weak, but she glared at Bellamy with a fierceness that could have rivaled his. Her loyalty to the weeping girl was clear; the way she angled her body made it clear Bellamy would not be getting to her friend. 

"Actually, Lilac doesn't like it in camp." she glared, her pale cheeks flushed bright "She doesn't like all the boys. The butterfly fields calm her down." 

"What have the boys ever done to her?" Bellamy snorted, but Clarke saw, in the way that the redhead's eyes tightened, the way that Lilac's fists tightened up in the redhead's shirt, the way Lilac gave a whimper and hid her eyes. She'd been hurt; badly. Clarke grabbed onto Bellamy to stop him going any further, prying too deep, but the redhead was already talking. 

"Men haven't been very nice to her in the past." 

Bellamy stopped dead, had been in the act of shaking Clarke off, but he froze suddenly, eyes growing round, face paling. He turned slowly back to the pair, stared at them for a long time. 

"Father?" he murmured. 

"And brother." the redhead replied, tone clipped. 

"She kill them?" 

"Yes." 

He nodded and ruffled the messy curls on his head. "The butterflies calm her?" 

"No, it's the flowers that the butterflies sit on." she pointed to the colourful bunches clinging to the bark of the tree "She likes putting them in her hair." 

Bellamy nodded, thoughtful, and then took a measured step forward. Lilac didn't react, so he moved to stand in front of her, kneeling down to make himself smaller and less imposing, Clarke caught a warm, gentle smile on his face as he tilted his chin up to look into Lilac's big blue eyes. He murmured to her, too low for Clarke to hear, and then held out his hand. After a long, tense moment Lilac took it, and Bellamy led her, slowly, over to the trees. 

Clarke moved to stand beside the redhead, who was equally as shocked, and the two watched, open-mouthed, as Bellamy crouched down and hoisted Lilac up onto his broad shoulders. From his height she was able to reach the bundles of flowers, and she giggled as she started gathering them for herself, passing them down to Bellamy so he could take care of them while she stretched to gather more. 

"She's letting him touch her," the redhead blinked, gobsmacked. "I'm Danny, by the way." 

"Clarke," the two girls shook hands without looking at each other "I can't believe he's  _smiling._ " 

"He must be a good man," Danny mused, shoving back her lanky red hair "Lilac has a way of telling, mostly because she's been subjected to such horrible men in the past. If she trusts him, well... He must be good." 

Clarke hummed, unsure of whether she agreed. Lilac was soon finished, and Bellamy turned to walk back to camp, though he kept Lilac on his shoulders the whole way back, not even blinking as she used his head as a surface to sort her flowers into colour-coded piles. Clarke and Danny followed, hurrying to keep up with Bellamy's long strides, and when they reached the border of camp, Bellamy lifted Lilac down and set her gently on her feet, leaning over his knees so he could be on eye-level as he spoke to her.

"When you want flowers, come and find me." he told her, voice firm but soft, dark eyes warm and fond "No wondering out alone, alright?" 

She nodded, and then reached up and placed a bright red flower behind his ear. He smiled as he straightened, adjusting it so that it wouldn't be dislodged. Bellamy watched Lilac pull Danny away with a dark expression.

"That was very kind," Clarke murmured, glancing sideways to make sure she was indeed speaking to Bellamy Blake. 

He blinked and glanced down at her, as if he hadn't realised she was still there. He shrugged his wide shoulders then, "Kids like that need kindness." 

Bellamy kept that red flower tucked behind his ear until it wilted, and he kept the same routine with every single one of the flowers that Lilac handed him after that day. 

****

 Clarke and Monty laughed at a story Octavia was telling, sat on a log around the campfire, wooden bowls in their laps and bellies full of the soup that two of the boys had slaved over for most of the morning. Octavia was good at telling stories, especially at doing strange voices. Monty was also a  _massive_ gossip, and Clarke and Octavia sat and listened attentively to all the latest goings-on around camp. 

"Oh, _ew._ " the trio looked up in surprise to find a girl leaning across from a different log, with long, dark hair and even longer legs. Which were on display, because she was only wearing a large shirt. "Could you three freaks keep it down? The normal people are trying to have conversations." 

"Who you calling freaks, bitch?" Octavia snapped, sneering. Clarke gasped, frowning disapprovingly at Octavia's language. 

"Shut up, basket case." the girl flipped her hair and shared a smirk with the boy beside her, "You're lucky you're Bellamy's sister, else you'd be hated just as much as they are." 

"We're hated?" Clarke frowned, confused now. "Also, it's getting quite cold. You might catch something if you don't put on some more clothes-" 

"What you trying to say?" the girl hissed, face twisting in dislike.

"Um, that prolonged exposure to cold temperatures often leads to illness?" Clarke replied, and Octavia almost threw up her hands in exasperation. There were snickers from around the campfire, from the people who'd been drawn in by the venom in the girl's voice. Clarke wasn't trying to be funny though, she was serious about the clothes thing. 

"You think you're so fucking smart," the girl glowered, clearly growing more angry "Think you're so special, so much better than the rest of us." 

"No, not at all-" Clarke tried to shake her head, clearly distressed that anyone would think she thought like that. 

"Leave it out, Piper." Monty murmured, shaking his head. 

"Well, you're  _not_ special," Piper continued, face a mask of violence and hatred "You're plain and forgettable and just not much of anything." 

"And at least _our_ moms didn't hand us in," the boy beside her commented, and Piper let out a crow of laughter at the look of horror on Clarke's face. The blonde drew into herself, angling away from the harsh words as if distance would make them sting less. It didn't. 

"Stop it," Octavia leaned forward, looking about ready to jump up, but Clarke stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

"Don't," Clarke smiled at her friend sadly "I'm used to it." a few of the group really did hate her, mostly because she'd grown up on Phoenix, and so had had more than them growing up. It was a reasonable excuse to dislike someone, Clarke allowed, but they really could be mean sometimes, like in this instance. 

"You shouldn't have to be," Octavia grumbled. 

"You think you're really fucking important, don't you?" Piper sneered, "Well, let me tell you-" 

"Oh good," a new voice rang out, from the other side of the fire. Everyone looked up in surprise to find Bellamy looking over, turned towards the conversation, eyes dancing with fire and face twisted in a fierce, furious scowl. "Are you just going to tell us exactly how important Clarke Griffin is to this camp?" 

"What?" Piper and the boy squawked at the same time. Everyone else was staring at Bellamy like he'd sprouted wings. 

"No, go on, Piper." Bellamy waved a casual hand, but Clarke was an expert at picking out the annoyance on his face, mostly because she put it there on a regular basis. "Honestly, tell us, just how many people in this camp know how to stitch up a wound, or re-set a broken bone, or you know, perform surgery? How many people know how to restart a heart, or to stop infection, or keep 100 delinquent kids alive and healthy? How many people, Piper?" 

Piper looked like she'd rather chew off her own arm than answer Bellamy, but he waited patiently, quirking his dark brows at the girl. 

Finally, she muttered; "Just one, Bellamy." 

"Just one, that's what I thought." he nodded, and then addressed the whole group gathered around the fire "Clarke Griffin is the most important person in this camp, considering our lives depend on hers. Everyone here knows how much pressure she's under, and anyone who adds to that pressure," he cut a glare at Piper and the boy, who shrank back "Is putting our lives in danger, and anyone who knowingly puts our lives in danger, will be banished." 

Piper and the boy stood and stomped off, and everyone around the campfire started murmuring, probably discussing the fact that Bellamy had basically just  _outlawed_ people being nasty to Clarke, the girl he had yelling matches with on an almost daily basis. But when Clarke lifted her eyes and found Bellamy looking at her, she gave him a small, grateful smile that said,  _Thanks a lot._ He gave her a smirk that said, clearly;  _No worries, Princess._

********

"Hey Bellamy, I need to go-" 

Clarke choked off in shock at the sight before her, and for a moment wondered with bewilderment at whether she'd stumbled into the wrong tent. But no, there was Bellamy, sat on the edge of his bed and surrounded by girls. But not like, in the usual way. Because these girls were young, and they weren't staring at him in adoration, and everyone was fully clothed. (For once, Clarke had seen more of Bellamy and his girlfriends than she'd _ever_ wanted to see.) 

Lilac was sat between his legs, with Bellamy's hands in her hair and his fingers working quickly. Another young girl, Lauren, sat next to him on the bed with her legs crossed, her own blonde hair braided in a long rope that rested over her shoulder. Danny was sat in front of Lilac with her back to Clarke, and Clarke noticed how Danny's red hair was twisted into a braid of not just three sections, but  _five._

"Uh... I can... come back?" Clarke started backing away, ready to scamper out of Bellamy's tent, because even though she'd burst in before and caught him doing grosser and... naked-er things, she couldn't handle this. She couldn't watch him do something that was so ridiculously un-Bellamy. Because she couldn't know him like this, couldn't know him as Gentle Giant Bellamy, or Big Brother Bellamy, or Piggy Back Rides and Flower Wearing Bellamy. Because if she knew those Bellamy's then she would  _like_ those Bellamy's and she couldn't afford that right now. 

"Nah, it's 'kay." Bellamy looked up at her, dark eyes amused but tanned cheeks flushed pink. "I'm almost done." he lowered his eyes again, though his fingers had carried on twisting and winding even with his eyes on Clarke. 

"Where did you... Learn this?" Clarke inched forward and ran her fingers over Danny's plait, and Danny grinned over her shoulder at the bewildered healer. 

"Cool right?" Danny asked. Clarke nodded wordlessly. 

"I am a big brother, you know." Bellamy cut her a look to say  _you're still the dumbest smart person I know,_ and then tied off Lilac's hair with a piece of string that Lauren had been keeping safe for him. He inspected Lilac's hair with professional eyes, nodded seriously, and then patted her head. "All done, Trouble." he picked her up from the floor and brushed her down, and smiled as all three girls rocketed out of his tent with loud 'thank you!'s yelled over their shoulders. He shook his head at them, smiling ruefully. 

"They love you." Clarke stared after them, mouth open. 

"I'm not always the monster you think I am, Princess." Bellamy stood, and he was suddenly in her personal space, so she took a hasty step away. 

"Just sometimes," she said, still staring after the girls. He chuckled, lips quirked up into a rare grin. 

"Yeah, just sometimes. When I need to be," he shrugged. Bellamy eyed her then, dark eyes sweeping her form and frowning when he'd finished "You look like shit, Clarke." 

"Up all night," she sighed "Stomach sickness. I need to go get some Honeyblue, it helps bring a temperature down-" 

"I'll get someone to go, you're staying here and getting some rest." he eyed her again "Also, you should find a brush somewhere." he grinned, clearly joking, but Clarke sighed. 

"The girls don't like me much, remember? I only get stuff like that if Octavia smuggles it in to me." 

Bellamy blinked, then scowled with anger "I told them, I  _warned_ them to be nice, stupid, irritating-" he went to storm by Clarke, but she grabbed at his arm and pulled him to a stop.  _  
_

"They already hate me, Bellamy." she sighed "They aren't going to appreciate it if I go snitching to you about people being mean." Clarke forced a laugh "I'm a big girl, I can handle it." 

"Your hair can't," he mused, then sighed and slumped back down on his bed "Sit," he pointed at the floor in front of him. Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but he was already grabbing her arm and yanking her down, forcing her into the space between his legs, back facing him. "For crying out loud, Princess, shut your mouth. It's embarrassing for both of us, but your hair is embarrassing for everyone so lets just sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, alright?" 

Clarke jammed her lips shut and just let him work. His fingers slid through her hair, working out the knots, and then he was twisting it, pulling on it gently, and his fingers were soft and deft against her scalp and holy hell she hadn't realised she  _liked_ people playing with her hair, but warmth was spreading all the way through her body and her eyes were growing heavy and she was  _actually_ fighting sleep. 

He patted her shoulder when he was done and she scrambled to stand, shaking sleep and embarrassment off her as she stood upright and brushed herself down. Bellamy was looking away, scratching the back of his neck as he coughed awkwardly. "Like it?" he asked, almost timid. He didn't look at her. 

She put a hand to her head and felt along the ridges of the French braid, something her mother used to do for her when she was a kid. "It's great, it wont get in the way now." she looked away from him too, glaring at the pillow on his bed "Thanks." 

"No worries, Princess. You have... you have good hair." he stood again and moved around her like she was some sort of wild animal, and edged towards the door of his tent. "Uh, Honeyblue, yeah? Temperatures and stomach sickness and uh... by the river, right?" 

"Yup," she rocked back and forth on her heels, fingering her hair and staring at the ground like a four year old "The blue ones with the yellow pollen." 

"Got it," he moved out of his tent so fast he tripped over his own feet, and Clarke waited a while before leaving his tent to avoid seeing him leave, so she could imagine his fingers in her hair without him reading too deeply into her blush. 

*****

The tradition had arisen out of need, really, and Clarke would be forever grateful that it had started up, and continued most nights. 

It had, primarily, been for the kids of the camp. All of which slept in one large tent on several different beds. Clarke had taken to checking on them in the night and herding them to bed, and she'd soon discovered that they wouldn't fall asleep unless she was present, considering all of them were young enough to still fear the dark, and smart enough to fear the forest and the threats it held in its shadows. 

Bellamy had come into the situation when he ducked into the tent, unannounced, and had frowned at the sight of Clarke curled up in one of the beds, Danny tucked into one side and a small blonde boy called Tommy tucked into the other. Bellamy, rather harshly, had demanded to know why she wasn't resting. She'd explained to him patiently, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She was taken completely by surprise when he offered - around an awkward cough - to tell a story.

Considering all of the kids were still wide awake, and half of them was then looking at Bellamy as if they had just witnessed the clouds parting and angels descending, Clarke nodded her consent, and sat up like the rest of them to listen to the story. 

It had been a good one, that evening. About a boy who was the son of a God, but had to prove he was just and good before he could become immortal and join his father as a God. In the end though, he'd decided to stay mortal, to be with the woman he loved. Clarke listened, as captivated as the kids, as Bellamy deepened and lightened his voice, made actions with his hands, made sound effects for storms and crashes and fights. She watched as his smile grew towards the end, as he laughed when he made the kids jump, as his face lightened and the stress and worry and burden lifted from his shoulders, and left behind a very young man with bright, excited eyes and a kind, joyous smile. 

By the end, even she was tired, and most of the kids were asleep when he'd finished, and if they weren't they dropped off almost immediately when they laid down. Bellamy offered his hand to help her fight her way out of the tangle of blankets, and they crept outside together. She was still staring at him, warmth filling her chest and a smile on her lips. 

"Will you come back tomorrow?" she asked him in a whisper when they were stood outside. 

"Sure, Princess." he turned to her, smiled at her smile - something she couldn't seem to shove off of her face - but his mouth dropped open when she reached up on her tiptoes and pressed a quick, messy kiss to his cheek. "What was that for?" he yelped, thrown out of his comfort zone. 

"Just for..." she looked at the floor, cheeks flaming "Giving them a moment of happiness. A moment to be kids." she'd shrugged and walked quickly away, too embarrassed to speak to him any longer, but she'd given him another kiss the next night, when he'd told a story of a war that lasted ten years and ended with a wooden horse.  The night after that too, and every night for the next week, because she just couldn't get over the transformation that occurred when Bellamy sat down to tell his stories. 

She was almost annoyed when more people started gathering, older kids creeping in to sit on the floor, or just outside where his voice reached. Only the oldest kids stayed away, too proud to sit through an activity primarily designed for the younger kids. Bellamy didn't seem to mind though, and the bigger audience didn't hinder his ability to tell the stories, so she didn't complain.

Eventually, it became tradition. Clarke was immensely glad, because it brought them together. It made Bellamy seem more human; Not just the big bad leader they all had to obey, and it allowed Clarke to connect with those around her, brought her out of the med bay and into the community of the 100. It integrated the children into the groups, let the older kids create connections with them, so everyone was taken care of better. Also, it just allowed for them all to wind down. Most days were taxing, physically, mentally, emotionally. Listening to stories of Gods and princesses and kingdoms and love was a break they all deserved. 

It changed something too, in the way that Clarke saw Bellamy. She was able to see him as the true man he was beneath all of that leadership, with his burdens and armour stripped away, and she could not help be proud of the man she was leading with. She realised, very quickly, that Bellamy was not the bad guy she'd thought him to be. No, he made harsh decisions so that others didn't have to, he carried out violence so that other's didn't have to carry those burdens, those stains on their soul. He did it because he cared... Because he was kind. The realisation came as a shock to Clarke, in the middle of a story of a girl who'd stolen her father's armour in order to fight in a war in his place. 

That's what Bellamy was doing, she realised, he was fighting so they didn't have to. Suddenly she was very grateful, and very sad, and suddenly she was indebted to Bellamy Blake, and tied to him so completely she felt it like a tug on her soul. 

Bellamy met her eyes and raised his dark brows in concern at her stricken expression, but she quickly shook her head and smiled, leaning forward to hear the rest of the story. 

How had she missed the obvious? Bellamy Blake was _good_ , through and through. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked! :) Also, you can all find me on tumblr and instagram, at bibliowitch for both of them, if you ever wanna talk to me more at length, kinda thing. Again, thank you!


End file.
